


Hymn to Herne

by Sombraline



Category: Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Short, Very questionably historical AU, Worship, halloween fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 05:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sombraline/pseuds/Sombraline
Summary: A worshipper invokes a god.





	Hymn to Herne

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very simple, very humble Halloween ficlet, which also fills one of my Bingo square. For more info on references, see end notes.

It was a dark and stormy night.

Tony couldn't do much for clichés, and he couldn't do anything for his own dramatic tendencies.

The sky was the darkest shade of black, the new moon refusing to spare even a glimmer of light for the poor earth below : there was no telling dogs or wolves apart, and there was nobody out to bother trying. Everybody was home, holding close to the fire, shivering with the howls of the wind haunting the woods like banshees.

It was a dark and stormy night : no thunder nor snow, no, nothing of the rage of Thor to tear the skies with lightning or Skadi's threatening breath freezing the trees from the roots. It was just as if the land itself was fighting, screaming into the empty fields, bending the branches of trees in low groans of tortured wood.

Tony walked with the wind in his back pushing him forward, making his feet struggle every few step to find the ground below his boots. Though he held his lantern at arm's lenght, it shook so harshly there was practically no relying on it to guide his steps. He could walk this particular path with his eyes shut, that was not an issue; but Tony was looking forward to getting on with it.

It was exactly what he had wanted. It was the best stage he had ever seen. If he did not show up tonight, then he never would, and Tony didn't want to risk it.

The clearing was fifteen minutes away from the village on a good day. It felt like an hour, tonight.

He had tried to light candles on the first few times, but trying it tonight would have been a recipe for disaster. Which, sure, might please _him_, but he had to be careful how much he was prepared to give : all of him, yes, but nobody else. The fire of his lantern would suffice tonight. 

The grass in the clearing was wet and untended to, overgrown every here and there with rings of mushrooms. It held still the signs of Tony's previous visits : knots of green strings clinged to trees trunks all around the clearing, and though the lantern was but a small light in the dark, it was enough for Tony to find the small chain of gold he had forged and half-buried here a few weeks ago. He grabbed it, muddy and cold, and twisted it around his wrist as he sat in the grass.

The runework took him but a few minutes : he knew his drawings by heart, and only slowed to check every few sharp angles by the flickering light of his lantern. The paint dried almost instantly over his arms and hands, and he could feel the icy line of runes from his left clavicle to the eye just above. His own, personal ritual. 

Kauniz -fire. Isa -ice. Eoh -witchcraft. Ansuz -gods. 

Thorn.  _Loki_ . 

He knew more than a few who had removed Thorn from their runegames altogether. It was a mighty, dangerous sign, even in its blessings : it meant power, a will that stopped at nothing. It meant cleansing, even if it came from destruction. The most merciless of curses were brought with the simplest drawing of Loki's rune.  _Danger. Madness. Revenge. Torments. _

Tony placed it on his cheek, on his heart, and on his hand. One last time, he drew it on the left corner of his lips. With that done, he breathed in, and out, and in, and out, gathering his courage. Why should he be nervous? Thus far, his attempts had all remained unanswered. And yet. And yet, tonight felt like it was the night.

"Loki," he said. The word was lost to a loud gust of wind. He raised his head and his voice and started again. "Loki. I am your follower and I invoke you. Please. Answer my call."

The wind blowed with renewed strenght, making the paint on his face feel like ice, and the chain around his wrist jingle lightly as it shook. Tony kept his eyes shut, breathing in and out.

"My name is Anthony," he said to the clearing around him. "I seek strenght greater than Asa-Thor's. I seek knowledge greater than the Allfather's. I seek wealth greater than Freyjr's. I offer you this gold," he enunciated, holding the chain between tight fingers, and reaching with his free hand for the vial held in his pocket. He opened it with his teeth, and turned it upside down, feeling the bubbling of liquid being emptied out. "I offer you my blood. I offer you worship. Loki, please. Answer my call."

"Loki of Asgard, Loki of Jötunheim, Loki of nowhere. Mother of Monsters, Father of Lies, Walker of Skies, Spinner of Tales. I invoke you tonight. Please. Answer my call."

He licked his dry lips, feeling a thick silence taking in the place left by his words. No answer. The vial felt light, now. Heart heavy, he opened his eyes.

And fell down on his ass as he was physically startled back by the sight that greeted him.

Loki was exactly the god he had expected. He was crouching low in the grass with the ease of a fox, long waves of messy red hair hanging on the left side of him like it belonged in the forest just as well as the trees and the stars. His pale eyes were on Tony, watching with evident amusement as his worshipper overcame his shock.

"I usually prefer fresh blood," said the apparition with a clear and rough voice, like the laughter of a crow. "But it's quite crafty of you to have prepared it. Makes for an easier ritual, I understand."

"You came," Tony said, disbelief making him forget all the sentences he had forged for this moment. "You're here!"

"You were quite clear about your desire to see me," Loki replied, smiling from his scarred lips to his sparkling eyes.

He looked so young, Tony thought, startled. His age, maybe. He was there. He was really there! He heard himself laughing, running a hand into his hair, straightening up on his knees to better look at the deity in front of him. The wind had fallen, abruptly, and the light of the lantern seemed brighter, warmer than it had been until now, allowing him to stare at his god.

"You never came before," he said cheerfully in his own defense. "I didn't really believe you would show up, not anymore. I -I'm so happy. I can't believe I'm looking at you!"

"I was a tad bit busy with some stories to finish, but had I known, I might have made some time. his truly is refreshing," Loki replied. "Can you do that part when you say I'm smarter than Odin again? That was very nice."

"Well, you _are_! Odin's just been trying to follow into your tracks and pretend he knew where he was going! That's what _all_ those Aesir are doing."

"Ah," Loki sighed, "lovely. Really lovely. That feels nice. Say my name again."

"Loki," Tony said, finding himself smiling as he slowly came back to his senses, and facing this impossible wonder. As Loki grinned, he noticed little freckles on his face. He was here. Norns, he was _here_. "Loki. My god."

"I'll be yours," Loki replied, with a grin that in his own way felt as eager as Tony's own. "Your god. What was it you wanted? Wealth? I'll find you a mountain filled with gold. Vengeance? I can slay those who armed you where they stand." Loki knelt up, bringing up pale hands with wrists bound in gore, wiggling his fingers. "Say the word, precious; speak your demand, Anthony. You have prayed to the right god. You have prayed to Loki, and Loki will reward you. I can tell you of the secrets of the moon and the sun. I can show you magic more powerful than Odin Allfather can imagine. All you have to do is to be mine."

"I want to be," Tony said. "It's my demand, lord Loki. Make me yours. I want your blessing. Not just tonight," he added quickly, seeing the god raise his eyebrows at him. "I want to carry your runes in my skin. I want to go your way."

Loki looked at him with growing surprise. He shifted a little closer; his hand was on Tony's, surprisingly warm fingers moving up to the chain of gold at his wrist. Before long, he held their forearms together, as if comparing the bonds at each of their hand.

"My way," he said finally. "Such devotion. Even my brother's blind servants are few to show this sort of submission. Why would you desire it? What do you think I will bring you? My way is hardly the way of mortal men."

"I crave it," Tony replied. "I know what it is to be human. I've had my share of it. I know what to expect. I want more. I want to be part of your story. I want to be in it, if only as your shadow. It will be a thousand times better than this."

"You're too clever," Loki said, pensively, looking into Tony's eyes like he was reading his answers there. "They do not understand you, do they? They fear and disrespect you for what should make you their leader. But even then, you never meant to lead, no. All you want... Is understanding."

"Companionship," Tony agreed. "I want a way of adventures. Of jokes and inventions and doing things not because of whys, but because of why nots. I want to be yours, my lord."

"And here I thought," Loki said, looking still lost in thoughts, "that you were invoking me for a nice romantic fuck in the forest."

"Well, that too, my god. One doesn't pray to Odin for that. And with my personal preferences, you're pretty much my only chance at being a dad."

Loki burst out laughing, evidently surprised; it was an absolutely charming sound, like snow falling or wolves howling. His arm was suddenly around Tony's shoulders, and his long nose burrowed itself in his neck, smelling him deeply like there was some secret in the aroma of smoke and mead in his beard. Tony was startled, not as much as he should have been. He inhaled the feather cloak around Loki's throat. It held a perfume of apples and pine.

"Let's see," Loki said, but his smiling voice said there was nothing left to consider, even as he claimed : "I'll take you with me. For now. »

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was very heavily inspired by SJ Tucker's "Hymn to Herne", which should make everybody want to invoke one horned god.
> 
> It also owes some credit to finngualart's delightful Loki: https://finngualart.tumblr.com/post/181493071667/  
Artist was not contacted and is not affiliated with this story in any way, though.
> 
> Finally, this story started as being set in a viking-era inspired Iceland, but many details were cropped in final edition. Nevertheless, I'm submitting it for my Frostiron Bingo's "Genre: Historical" square, which was O5. That's two squares done!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the story! Thanks for making it this far, and I feed mostly on comments!


End file.
